


Black Forest Torte

by Daphne_Dark



Series: Domestic Bliss [5]
Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Food Kink, Kitchen Sex, Married Life, Married Sex, Mild Kink, So Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 14:18:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18316964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daphne_Dark/pseuds/Daphne_Dark
Summary: ...if I knew you were coming I'd have baked a cake?...





	Black Forest Torte

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JennStar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennStar/gifts).



It was seldom if ever that HQ closed early, let alone on a weekday, but a freak infestation had caused just that, so John and everyone else (except prisoners and guards) was getting a day and a half off, whether they wanted it or not.

John walked in his front door; he couldn’t remember if Helen told him she was going shopping today or not. He headed toward the kitchen for some cold milk, maybe some cookies.

But there she was - humming as she walked about in the kitchen, obviously in the middle of something. Oh, his pretty redheaded wife!

She turned around with a dish of something in her hands, and nearly dropped it. “John! You startled me!”

“Evidently.” He walked up and nibbled on something from the dish. “Cute apron. Matches the fruit,” he said, indicating the cherry design. He took a few more fruits to chomp on.

“Thank you… I thought it fit the theme…”

As well as the pretty apron she wore a pink-and-red polka-dotted dress; the polka-dots reminded him of cherries, too. He looked lustfully at her. “I’m… very fond of your… cherries.”

“They’re for the Black Forest Torte,” she said, trying to pull a stern face. Her naughty man… “It’s nice to have you home early.”

“Thank the spiders. Last week I met the Science Fair winner; this week, I have spiders in my office.”

“Augh, that’s awful!”

“Yes. But now I can help you with… whatever it is you’re doing here…” he looked around and dipped his finger in some chocolate cake batter.

“Now, Dear! That’s for the Ladies’ Auxiliary Bake Sale… it’s going to be _Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte_.”

“You’ve already got some cake there…” he said, indicating two round layers, cooling on racks. “And whipped cream here. And booze!” He grabbed a bottle from the counter and took a swig.

“John!” Helen’s face was horrified. “That’s _Kirschwasser_! You sprinkle it onto the layers, like so…”

He took her into his arms and smooched her hard, the brandy still on his lips. “Do I taste like dishwater?” He winked.

“ _Kirschwasser_!” She sank to the floor, doubling up with laughter.

“Helen! You can’t bake from the floor! All your supplies are up here!” He grabbed some bowls and sat down on the floor beside her. “Now, that’s better!”

“Honestly, John, you are the silliest person I ever met!” She took her finger and dipped it in the batter. Then she smudged it over his lips… just to kiss it off. It tasted so good, she did it again…

John wanted in on this too, and they started smearing each other with batter, licking and kissing ardently. They undid each other’s tops… more surface for the batter

“Mmm, I can’t stop licking…” said John. “I never knew chocolate cake could be so good!”

“Black Forest Torte, Dear - it’s a _torte_.”

“You’re a tart…” his hand was riding up her skirt. She moaned and leaned back, as if to prove his words.

John grabbed a few cherries. Helen was completely prone now, and she let John open her legs and position her.

“And these? What are they for?”

“Eating, of course…” she said coyly.

“Oh, I’ll eat your cherry, Love… count on it.”

He dipped his hands into the whipped cream, letting his fingertips frost her labia, every once in a while pressing gently to hear her gasp. He took the cherries and made a little line of them all the way down her slit.

Helen could barely contain her excitement. “Is your tart properly decorated?”

“Mmm, yes, and almost too pretty to eat. Almost…”

He went at her, gently at first, licking the outer lips. Oh, her skirts were up; she couldn’t see him. She was used to looking down and seeing his head between her legs; now she had to imagine it, recalling images of when they were in bed together. The visual made her blush, then it made her hot. She started moaning.

“The juices from you… so perfect with the cream…” John went back at her, harder. Again, her skirts got in the line of vision and she could only feel him again, but oh, just feeling him made it more intense!

She felt that he had licked her lips clean, and now he was starting at the mons, where he’d placed the first cherry. He kissed and sucked, the cherries coming off with a teensy pop, and he lapped and sucked the maraschino juices that dribbled down. He nibbled and swallowed (of course, he had to swallow the actual cherries) and never had Helen felt so _well-eaten_ in her life.

“One more,” he told her. He’d eaten his way around one, and that was the one on her clitoris. Now he got to it, taking his time, gentle and hard, teasing endlessly. Oh, his tongue was a probe, knowing just how to bring her off! She let go, moaning and gushing...

He moved up on her, holding her. “Darling…. your pleasure is music to my ears. I’ll never forget the first time I made you cry out like that.” He stroked her face tenderly.

“Uh-huh, when you first took my cherry…”

They giggled. The idea of taking someone’s cherry twice was so weird.

They kissed, and Helen tasted herself through the cherry juice and the whipped cream. It was so sensual… she was getting excited again, and she knew John was getting hard. They started grinding together.

Suddenly John rolled her over and lifted the back of her skirt. She heard a metal tinging. “So, more whipped cream.” He took out the whisk and they alternated licking it.

“The _whipped_ cream…” he repeated, rubbing his hand over her smooth, bare buttocks.

“Ohhhh…” she waggled her butt at him lasciviously, giving consent.

The strokes were gentle at first, playful; he even tapped her thighs with it. But he was getting more aroused, focusing on those beautiful, fleshy globes, making her backside warm. The metallic sound, too, aroused her.

He had moved behind her, stopping a moment to undo his pants, then beating harder to make up for the pause. “Oh, oh!” she moaned, tingling with anticipation. He touched her pussy, spreading the wetness, and inserted a finger. He was gonna make her beg for it. “Oh, put it in me. Put it _in_ me…”

He huffed out a breath. “I think a little prep work, first, in the kitchen?”

Oh, now she knew what he was asking for! He was so kinky… (but after all, so was she.) “Yesss,” she agreed vigorously

He left her hang for a moment, then something smooth and cold entered… Oh! The contrast between her hot juices and the cool metal whisk handle… it drove her wild as her husband moved it in and out. His own breathing was hard and hot on her back as he leaned over her.

Then it stopped. She let out a disappointed “Oh!” but she knew she’d been prepared for better things. She scootched up on her knees, waiting.

John could hardly stand it - her beautiful pussy exposed completely to him by the rearview; more completely, even, than from the front. “ _Hündchenstellung_ “ the German officers snarkily called it. He didn’t care if they smirked – she was his wife; he’d hunchen her all he wanted…

Oh, it was good… he leaned over to reached in front, playing with her swinging breasts, while she pressed into him. They found their rhythm so easily after all these years, almost too easily; he wanted to stay in her longer. So he humped her jerkily, just enough to throw the timing askew. Helen laughed with surprise and pleasure, thrusting faster against him, racing to catch up. The inevitable came - they quivered together, crying out – then collapsed in a satisfied heap.

As they lay there, the phone rang. Helen pressed a hand to her ear. But the stupid thing kept ringing.

“Ah, you may as well get it… they’ll call again in two minutes if you don’t…” grunted John.

Helen lunged for the phone as John started to pick up the bowls.

“Oh, Alice, hi, how are you? What? You need me to come over and help you make _Stollen_? Why, dear, I’d love to but I _can’t_! You seem I’m… up to my waist with… _Black Forest Torte_!”


End file.
